


Depth

by perdiccas



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: First Time, M/M, Porn, Road Trip, Safer Sex, Zane!Sylar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-22
Updated: 2008-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdiccas/pseuds/perdiccas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven't kissed. They've barely touched and yet they've sat in the car, side by side for hours with the tacit understanding that they will fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depth

Mohinder stands at the small sink washing his hands. The water has run icy cold and his palms are almost numb but he barely notices. In the grimy mirror, his eyes are locked on the reflection of the condom machine on the opposing wall.

He can't, he thinks, it's wrong. He shouldn't even contemplate it but he cannot look away. He wants Zane, desires him, rawly, carnally, wantonly. And he thinks Zane wants him too. They've been flirting since the moment they met, finding excuses to touch each other, to sit too close when they stop at a diner for coffee and a break from the road. Here, at this rest stop, less than fifteen minutes ago, Zane's feet had tangled with his under the table. The plastic capped toe of his shoe had caressed Mohinder's ankle.

What's the harm, he argues with himself. If he is somehow wrong and Zane isn't interested, well then how is Zane to know that Mohinder has prepared for any other eventuality? He's still in the store, paying for their gas.

Mohinder glances over his shoulder. He's alone, he knows that he is but still the hairs on the back of his head stand on end and his heart pounds as he digs in his pocket for some loose change. He feeds the quarters into the machine with shaking fingers and punches the button to dispense a condom.

Nothing happens.

He punches the button again and waits. Nothing. He presses it again and again, holding his thumb hard against it but still no condom is released. His mind is reeling. He feels sure now that he is right. Zane wants him. He wants Zane. They'll get to a motel and want to fuck, and they'll be left angry and frustrated because Mohinder is suddenly too incompetent to work a condom dispenser.

He hits the machine on its side. It doesn't get him a condom but it makes him feel better so he keeps hitting it. Metallic clangs echo in the bathroom and Mohinder kicks the wall for good measure to let the world know just how displeased he is. He's grunting, sweaty, annoyed and feeling vaguely ridiculous, but he can't admit defeat. Mohinder presses the button obsessively, willing it to finally, miraculously work.

'Mohinder?'

Zane's voice is loud in the too still, too quiet room. Mohinder whips around, his skin prickling with the guilt of being caught. The bathroom suddenly seems hot and close and far too small to house them both. He tries to step away from the dispenser but he hesitates as it becomes clear that will only bring him closer to Zane. Anxiety curls in his gut.

Zane steps closer, looming over him, face impassive and Mohinder realises in a sickening instant just how much taller and broader Zane is than him. His whole face is burning as he blushes fiercely, throat dry under Zane's incredulous stare. Now the glances and the casual touches that Mohinder had just minutes ago convinced himself to be irrefutable signs of Zane's attraction, diminished in his estimation to something much more innocent.

'It's not what it looks like!' he stutters.

'No, Mohinder, I think it's exactly what it looks like.' Zane's voice is a low, hoarse rumble that even now, in the midst of his apprehension and embarrassment, arouses him.

To his surprise, Zane closes the gap between them and, as he holds Mohinder's gaze, activates the coin release on the machine. Each metallic clang as the quarters drop and bounce rings in Mohinder's ears like a death knoll. Zane seems mild mannered enough but Mohinder knows that things could easily get violent if he's misinterpreted Zane's sexuality.

Zane collects the money and places it in Mohinder's shaking palm. Before he can speak, Zane leers at him and pulls a condom from his back pocket.

'I guess I must have bought the last one.'

He drags the corner of the condom along Mohinder's fly, chuckling as Mohinder yelps at the unexpected touch and then tucks it into Mohinder's front pocket. The silver edge of the packaging is left glinting in the low light against the denim of his jeans. Zane turns on his heel and leaves the men's room without another word.

***

They don't say anything in the car, but Mohinder can feel the circular outline of the condom high on his thigh. He's become so aware of its presence that he half-expects to see the shape burnt into his skin when he finally removes his trousers.

He tries to concentrate on driving but Zane's presence is overwhelmingly distracting. The hand resting casually on Mohinder's knee isn't helping matters either. Mohinder is achingly aroused with the anticipation of what is to come but when he flicks on the indicator, aiming for the slip road that will take them to the closest motel, Zane says, 'Don't stop yet.'

Mohinder glances at him in disbelief.

'We can reach Bozeman by nightfall if we keep going,' he explains with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.

Mohinder's mind is reeling and his cock is pulsing demandingly against his fly. Zane is staring out the passenger window and Mohinder wants to shake him, to insist that he turn around and help Mohinder deal with his throbbing erection. Before he can do anything, Zane's fingers are walking nonchalantly up his thigh. Zane rubs his thumb over Mohinder's pocket, tracing around the outline of the condom through the denim, pressing the ring more closely against Mohinder's skin and Mohinder drives faster.

***

When they finally reach the motel, it's dark. Zane insists on getting the room and leaves Mohinder sitting in the car before he can protest that he can pay his own way. With the engine shut off, the car quickly cools. Mohinder wraps his arms around himself for warmth and he realises that the shivers coursing through his body are as much nerves as they are the frigid temperature. He wants this, he does. He has been interested in Zane physically since he opened the door in Virginia Beach and the hours spent in the car flirting have only made Zane more appealing. Mohinder has been painfully erect since their last rest stop. He needs this release, he wants it, he deserves the indulgence, but there is a sudden heaviness in his gut at the casualness of what they are about to do.

Mohinder has had one night stands before. He has slept with men and women he has had no deeper feelings for. He has both allowed his lovers to hope for something more and had has own hopes dashed but never has he engaged in anything so explicitly sexual. They haven't kissed. They've barely touched and yet they've sat in the car, side by side for hours with the tacit understanding that they will fuck. It's an exhilarating and frightening situation. Mohinder feels almost overwhelmed by his own conflicting emotions.

Three sharp raps on the window startle Mohinder from his thoughts. Zane is shaking the room key and Mohinder finds the time for reflection is over. It's unethical and improper, but when Mohinder looks at Zane he lets his lust take over and drown out every inner voice that tells this is an unwise idea.

***

The door has barely been locked but already he is being crushed against the wall. Zane's pinning his wrists to his sides and pressing the length of their bodies together. His leg is between Mohinder's thighs. They grind together roughly as they kiss hungrily. There's no pretence and no seduction. They're both obviously and unrepentantly hard so they rub against one another until they're panting, sweating and groaning into each other's mouths.

Zane releases his hands and instantly he's pulling at Zane's hips, holding him impossibly closer as he ruts against the hard ridge of Zane's hip. Zane's hands have worked between them. He's opening Mohinder's shirt, ripping as many buttons as he manages to undo but Mohinder doesn't care. His hands are on Mohinder's stomach. They shove up his undershirt, bunching it at his armpits and without warning, Zane breaks their kiss to drop his head and lap at Mohinder's tight, aching nipples.

Mohinder is writhing, back to the wall, front pressed to Zane. He feels sixteen again to give in so completely and selfishly to his own baser desires. They're barely interacting. They still haven't spoken. This isn't foreplay; they're hardly more than each other's masturbatory aids.

Then, Zane pulls back. He plucks the condom from Mohinder's pocket and trails it up the length of his stomach. It feels alien against his skin. The edges of the packaging are sharp. The foil is smooth and artificial and when Zane trails it over the dips and hollows of his abdominal muscles, where moments before Zane's palms, soft, warm and organic, had been, goose pimples rise at the contrast.

He holds the condom to the centre of Mohinder's chest, equidistant between his nipples as he leans in to whisper directly into Mohinder's ear. 'What do you want Mohinder?'

Mohinder can't speak. The question is too abrupt, almost confrontational and Mohinder isn't sure how he is to phrase his answer. 'You,' he stutters.

Zane laughs. It's low and throaty, tinged with a slight annoyance. He takes the condom and holds it between two fingers and flashes it before Mohinder's eyes. Mohinder swallows nervously, suddenly wondering how rough Zane wants this. 'Don't be shy,' Zane chides. He drags the edge of the wrapper along Mohinder's lips. It catches and pulls at the soft skin and when the corner pricks him, it hurts.

Zane waits for him to answer but Mohinder has no answer to give him. His hand moves lower, he's scraping the sharp edge over the hard peak of Mohinder's nipple while his other hand opens Mohinder's fly. He tugs at Mohinder's dick but he doesn't let Mohinder get lost in the sublime sensation. He squeezes him roughly when Mohinder's eyes begin to shut and asks again, 'Hmmm, Mohinder? I know you've been thinking about it. About me. What were you fantasising about in the car?'

A thousand filthy images seem to flicker in Mohinder's mind's eye but there's none that he feels brazen enough to give voice to. Zane runs the edge of the condom carefully up the underside of his cock. Mohinder tries to squirm backwards, away from the dangerous sharpness of the foil's edge but there's nowhere to go with the wall firmly behind him.

'Do you want to fuck me, Mohinder? Or do you want to be fucked?'

'Both,' he blurts out without thinking. It's true, he does. He wants to fuck and be fucked, suck and be sucked. He wants to touch, lick, bite, caress and pleasure and have the same done to himself until they collapse from sheer exhaustion. But Zane's laughing at him. Not unkindly, breathlessly as if Mohinder has taken him by surprise.

'Whore,' he mutters with a smile. And Mohinder is laughing too, at their shared desperation and desire. Then Zane is frowning slightly and he presses the flat of the wrapper to Mohinder's mouth. Mohinder can feel the stiff circle of the condom and he kisses it, pleased when Zane sucks in a sudden, sharp breath at the sight. 'We only have one of these, Mohinder. You have to choose.'

He wraps his arms around Zane's neck and pulls him down for a deep, wet kiss. Against his lips he growls, 'I'm going to fuck you, Zane.'

Zane pushes on Mohinder's shoulders harder than he needs to as Mohinder willing falls to his knees. There isn't much space between the wall and Zane's body. When Zane opens his fly, Mohinder has to nudge him backwards with his hands to Zane's narrow hips to avoid getting slapped in the face. He doesn't bother to remove his jeans, pushing them down just far enough to expose his cock. Zane's scent floods the cramped space between them and Mohinder licks his lips eagerly, curling his body forward to kiss the tip without further encouragement.

Zane's fingers thread through his hair. Mohinder glances up and sees Zane brace himself against the wall, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. Mohinder can't be sure but he thinks that Zane is biting his sleeve. He smiles to himself, feeling for the first time since this started as if he has some semblance of control over the situation.

He licks the head of Zane's cock lightly, feathering his lips until Zane's hips roll forward, pressing himself more firmly to Mohinder's mouth. Mohinder ignores the hint, turning his head to the side instead and mouthing wetly down the length of his shaft. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of Zane's underwear and cups Zane's balls, lifting them out and smiling when Zane moans above him. Mohinder laps at the soft skin of his sac and Zane's fingers tangle in his hair more tightly. He wants to kiss and lick his way up and down Zane's inner thighs, suck on his balls and let his hands roam higher, caressing his stomach and chest as he sucks Zane's dick to the back of his throat but he's hampered by the thick denim that prevents Zane from even spreading his legs to Mohinder's satisfaction.

Mohinder shoves him roughly. Zane stumbles backwards with a strangled shout, pulling Mohinder's hair painfully in his surprise. The room is small though, and in two staggering steps he has collapsed, laughing on the bed. He raises himself on his elbows and watches, head cocked to the side, as Mohinder crawls towards him. Mohinder knows what he must look like, on his hands and knees with his ass pushed high in the air as he works his way between Zane's spread legs.

'You look good on your knees,' Zane whispers. His throat sounds dry, as if the sight of Mohinder so wanton has left him almost incapable of speech.

'I know,' he replies with a cheeky wink.

'Slut,' Zane says and Mohinder can feel his cock twitch at the word. A burst of hormones shoots hotly through his core. His can feel his nipples tightening and he has to steady himself with his hands on Zane's thighs as his own tremble at the low, rasping tone of Zane's voice, dripping with want. 'Yes,' he groans, 'For you.'

Zane leans down and kisses him deeply, possessively. His hands frame Mohinder's face and he's pressing their lips together hard enough to bruise. Mohinder whimpers into the kiss, leaning into it, deepening it until they are running their hands through each other's hair frantically, stroking one other's chests and clawing at their clothes. They break apart panting and strip off their shirts.

Zane's torso is more toned than he had imagined; all hard, flat planes and lean muscle, under taut, pale skin. They allow themselves a moment to stare and Mohinder takes in Zane's heaving chest and slim hips. His eyes focus on the patch of hair at the centre of Zane's chest, following it down as it trails low on his stomach and down to his groin, thick and dark. Mohinder reaches out to touch. He skims his hand over Zane's chest, sighing at the feel of the coarse curls beneath his fingers. He strokes one nipple with his thumb and with his other hand he deftly works Zane's laces loose.

Zane is arching his back into the caress but Mohinder needs both hands to pull Zane's shoes from his feet and he is left whining, pressing his chest into the air as Mohinder's fingers skate down his side and away. Zane's cock is swaying as Mohinder works. Pre-come is collecting at the tip, spilling over and dribbling down his length. It takes all of Mohinder's self-control to stop himself from darting forward and sucking Zane off like he wants to, quick and messy.

He wants to make Zane wait, like Zane has made him wait all day. So he turns his full attention to Zane's feet, peeling off his socks and lifting each foot to place a tender kiss on each ankle. His hands sneak up the legs of Zane's jeans. He strokes the backs of Zane's calves, nails scratching over the hair there. Mohinder inches forward and pushes Zane's knees apart until they are wider than the span of Mohinder's shoulders. His legs are tense, only the tips of his toes connecting with the floor as he holds his breath in anticipation of Mohinder's mouth on his cock.

'Please,' he moans but Mohinder shakes his head cruelly. Mohinder kisses the centre of his chest, as high as he can reach without straining his neck as he kneels on the floor. Then he kisses lower, nipping at Zane's stomach. His tongue delves into his navel, swirling around until Zane lets out a long, breathless laugh and squirms under the ticklish touch.

Mohinder pulls back and considers his options before settling his lips on Zane's left hip. He grasps at both Zane's jeans and boxers, and when Zane obligingly lifts his hips, Mohinder starts to slowly work them down. He lavishes attention on Zane's left leg as each inch of new skin is exposed. He kisses, licks and bites, sucks at Zane's inner thigh until the skin is red and hot against his cheek. He nuzzles his face against the inside curve of Zane's knee, sighing at the gentle catch and scrape of his stubble on Zane's skin and hair. He drags his teeth along the firm muscle of Zane's calf, massaging the back of his ankle with both hands once Zane's jeans have been pulled away and discarded.

Mohinder's cock is heavy and he stops for a moment, spreading his thighs but finds no real relief. So he climbs to his feet quickly and shucks his jeans, slapping away Zane's hands when they reach for him. He holds Zane's gaze and squeezes his own cock gently, just enough to take the edge off the burning, aching, fullness that seems determined to undermine his plans. His balls feel tight too. They throb more demandingly when Mohinder takes himself in hand but he doesn't let his fingers slip down lower. That would be too much, too indulgent.

Zane's breathing is loud in the otherwise still room and his eyes are glazed, dark in the low light.

'_Mohinder_,' he pleads. His hands are curled in tight fists that frame his hips and between his fingers Mohinder can see the edge of the silver wrapper that promises what is to come.

'I'm here,' he answers, kissing Zane softly and apologetically as he slides gracefully to the floor once more.

He explores Zane's right leg with his hands, not his mouth. He kneads the muscles and smoothes his fingers along the skin, following the hard lines of shin and knee. Mohinder presses one palm to Zane's outer thigh and one to the inner, sandwiching his leg between his hands as he rubs the skin in soothing, teasing circles that work their way closer to Zane's groin at an interminable, glacial pace. Zane's hips are moving subtly, rocking in place as his toes curl against the carpet, back arching and head thrown back.

'Zane,' Mohinder moans. 'Zane, look at me.'

His hands are on Zane's hips now, pressing him firmly against the bed. Zane is looking down on him obediently, biting his bottom lip as he watches his cock slide between Mohinder's parted lips. Zane is hot and hard on his tongue. Mohinder can feel the throbbing pulse of the thick vein on Zane's underside as he bobs his head smoothly up and down his shaft. His thumbs are stroking the tops of Zane's thighs as he closes his lips more tightly around him and pulls up slowly, keeping the suction as steady as he can while still tracing his tongue over every rise and fall on the tight skin of Zane's cock.

Mohinder pauses to breathe, turning his attention to Zane's balls. He sucks one in and sighs around it, grateful that this at least doesn't stretch and strain his jaw. With one hand he lazily strokes Zane's dick. His fist is loose and teasing, and soon Zane is pushing himself up into it, fucking Mohinder's hand as Mohinder rests against his thigh and watches. He loves the contrast of their skin, pale and dark, hard and soft. He loses himself in the sight of Zane rising and falling through the circle made from his long fingers, just barely able to close around Zane's width. Pre-come leaks steadily from him now and the head of his cock is slick, glistening as with every lift of his hips, Mohinder slicks more of the wetness down his shaft.

Eventually, the sight is too erotic, too sensual for Mohinder to remain a detached observer and he brings his lips to Zane's erection once more. He holds Zane more tightly and rubs his mouth against Zane's cock. He hears Zane hiss as Mohinder's stubble grazes against his sensitive flesh but when he tries to pull back, Zane's hand is at the back of his head, pulling him closer until Zane is sliding his cock along Mohinder's jaw line, gasping at the abrasive mix of pleasure and pain. Mohinder lets Zane work himself into a writhing, moaning frenzy before breaking free of his grip and soothing Zane's length with long, wet licks from root to slit. He circles his tongue around the head, curling the tip under Zane's ridge. Mohinder lets him slide between his lips and sucks lightly, swaying in time to the gentle twitches of Zane's body.

'Wait,' Zane pants. He shuffles back on the bed, groaning as Mohinder releases his dick with a sloppy, wet sound, trailing down his chin until Mohinder sits back on his haunches. 'There's lube in my pocket.'

Mohinder grabs Zane's jeans from where he had flung them to the side and pats the pockets, finding the sachets and climbing onto the bed. Zane is laying spread eagled, head and shoulders propped up on the pillows to better watch Mohinder as he works between his legs. He slicks his fingers quickly and thrusts two into Zane's ass, fast but shallow, pulling out swiftly and working back in more slowly. He can see Zane's stomach tense and he lets out a long, uneven breath as he tries to relax into being stretched.

'Ok?' he asks gently. Zane nods but sweat is beading on his chest and neck. His brow has furrowed in pain and Mohinder stills his hand. Zane opens his eyes in confusion, and then pulls one knee to his chest, opening himself wider. Mohinder can feel the tightness around his fingers lessen and he separates them carefully, easing Zane open.

'Kiss me,' Zane begs so Mohinder leans forward. He supports himself on one forearm and stretches over Zane's prone body, letting Zane's knee rest against his shoulder to stop his muscles straining. They exchange light, tender kisses, Mohinder sucking Zane's lower lip while his fingers thrust slowly in his ass, massaging his walls. He brushes over Zane's prostate and Zane's mouth goes slack against his. He caresses it again and Zane moans beautifully, grinding down onto Mohinder's hand. Zane's eyes are closed and he's kissing Mohinder's face blindly, lips uncoordinated as Mohinder's nimble fingers leave him unable to focus.

Mohinder pulls back to watch Zane's face as he plays with his ass. His own arousal is wholly forgotten in the face of such unrestrained sensuality. Zane's expression is beatific, caught entirely in the overwhelming waves of his pleasure. Mohinder kisses the knee on his shoulder distractedly, unable to tear his gaze from the flickers of bliss and wonderment that cross Zane's face. He is utterly open in his enjoyment. There is no shyness or embarrassment in the way that he cries out for more, for Mohinder. Zane is almost innocent in the purity of his pleasure and Mohinder thinks that it might be the most erotic he has ever seen anyone in his entire life.

This isn't how Mohinder had expected things to go. He hadn't been sure what Zane had wanted. He hadn't been sure what _he_ had wanted. He still wasn't sure what this was between them other than an undeniable physical attraction. Zane had come on to him so strongly, and then been so coy that he has been left utterly confused. He had supposed this to be a liaison of convenience – what more could he expect but sex from a man he knew so little? If he was honest, Mohinder wasn't sure he had wanted anything deeper. After the torturous drive, hours spent hard, breathless, excited and anxious, he had anticipated they both would break, fucking rough and fast, but this is so much better. He never expected that sex, not even sex, with Zane would feel so intimate. When Zane's eyes suddenly open wide and his hand snaps down to grasp his dick tightly, Mohinder doesn't stop.

'Please,' Zane whimpers helplessly but Mohinder keeps stroking him deep inside, alternately pressing at his prostate and skirting around it, brushing lightly over it and caressing it more firmly.

'Come for me, Zane,' he breathes. 'Let me see you. Come for me,' he orders again more forcefully as he finally finds his voice.

Zane frowns a little as if concentrating hard and then exhales loudly, pushing himself harder onto Mohinder's probing, insistent fingers until he is arching off the bed, crying out as his orgasm approaches. As Mohinder watches, Zane lightly squeezes his cock. His breath is coming in short, shallow pants that catch in his throat and make his whole body shudder as he hovers precipitously at the edge of his climax. 'Touch yourself,' Mohinder insists and he does.

His gives himself one smooth, slow stroke and then his hand is a blur. His ass contracts around Mohinder's fingers, pulling him in deeper as his cock pulses. Long, thick stripes of come land across his stomach. Mohinder massages his prostate, kissing Zane's open mouth as he forces his orgasm to be longer and more intense. Zane's lips are utterly unresponsive as he body convulses with pleasure beneath him but as his muscles finally relax, he kisses Mohinder lazily, laughing breathlessly as he brushes the sweat-damp hair from his forehead.

Mohinder eases his fingers from Zane's ass, mindful not to hurt him as his muscles still flutter with aftershocks. He wipes his hand on the sheets and then sits back a little, helping Zane lower his trembling leg back to the bed. He massages Zane's calf and thigh to stop any cramps from taking hold.

'You're beautiful,' he tells Zane and it's true. He's fallen back against the bed, completely sated. His lips are plump from their kisses and his skin is slick with sweat, flushed with the exertion of his orgasm. He's smiling dopily, watching Mohinder with unfocussed eyes under half lowered lashes. Mohinder crawls over him again. 'So beautiful,' he repeats against Zane's mouth. They kiss long and slow and when their eyes meet, Mohinder knows this could never have been just a casual fuck.

Zane's body is pliant, muscles slack from his release and he allows Mohinder to rearrange his languid limbs. Mohinder rolls him onto his side so that they are facing, smiling at Zane's happy sigh as he nuzzles against the pillows. Zane meets Mohinder's kisses lazily. He's stroking Mohinder's hair, a dozy grin plastered across his face as Mohinder nibbles along his jaw line.

Finally, Zane starts to stir from his post-orgasmic stupor. He trails his fingers lightly down Mohinder's side, skimming over the hollows between his ribs and tracing the groove of his hip. He kisses Mohinder softly and teasingly caresses his erection. Zane swallows Mohinder's groans.

He presses closer, tries to tilt Mohinder's hips so that his ass is flat to the mattress and Zane can straddle him, but Mohinder pushes back. Without hesitation, Zane cedes to his control. Mohinder sits up and kneels over Zane's thighs.

Zane is blinking slowly and Mohinder both envies him his afterglow and wants desperately to worship him like this. His every movement is lethargic, buffered by the haze of pleasure that Mohinder can tell still cocoons him. He offers no comment on the change in position and when Mohinder pins Zane's hands above his head, Zane is unresisting. He relaxes into Mohinder's grip on his wrists, looking up at him serenely. It makes Mohinder press him harder to the bed.

"What're you doing, Mohinder?" There's no nervousness in Zane's voice, just an idle curiosity.

"Everything I fantasised about in the car."

Mohinder flashes him a wicked grin. Zane laughs breathlessly, cocking his head to the side as he watches Mohinder watching him. He is utterly confident in his complacency and Mohinder finds it more erotic than Zane's earlier aggression.

"I thought you wanted to fuck me," he teases.

"Oh, I will, Zane," Mohinder promises. His eyes glide down Zane's body and focus on his crotch. Zane's cock is flaccid still, nestled in his dark thatch of pubic hair. Mohinder doesn't want to take him like this, though Zane is perfectly willing. He doesn't want this to end as selfishly as it had begun, with two halves of one-sided pleasure patched awkwardly together. He wants to make love to Zane, not fuck him after all. He wants it long and slow and deep, giving Zane as much pleasure as he is getting from him. Mohinder finds that the anticipation has become almost as pleasurable as the sex will surely be.

"Soon," he whispers, pecking Zane on the lips, reassuring him with a kiss that the break is not a rejection.

Mohinder releases his wrists and pulls Zane's soiled hand to his mouth. Their gazes are unwavering, trained on one another's faces as Mohinder slowly licks Zane clean. He laves his tongue across Zane's palm and then sucks each of his fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue to collect every drop of his spunk. Mohinder moans at the taste at once both familiar and uniquely _Zane_. He closes his lips more tightly around Zane's thumb and lets himself give in to his enjoyment, lapping at the pad of Zane's finger where it had slid over the head of his cock.

Slowly, Zane starts to work his hand free of Mohinder's grip and Mohinder's mouth falls slack, letting Zane's thumb slide wetly from his lips. He finds that he is holding his breath, waiting for Zane to voice disgust at Mohinder's display or at the least, tease him for his wantonness but instead, Zane cups his jaw and leans up to meet him in a kiss.

Zane's tongue probes his mouth curiously. Mohinder strokes his hair, letting Zane's tongue curl behind his teeth and skim the roof of his mouth as he seeks out every trace of himself in their kiss. He's moaning as he explores and the sound seems to echo deep in Mohinder's throat, vibrations reverberating through his chest and groin at the discovery that Zane might just share his kink.

They break apart breathless and Zane leans back, folding his hands behind his head. His hair is unruly, swept every which way by Mohinder's caresses. There's a light flush rising in his cheeks as he licks his lips unconsciously. Mohinder thinks that this is Zane at his sexiest: relaxed, confident and completely blissed out.

"S'good," he mumbles. His words are kiss-slurred and his voice is raspy with want. Mohinder doesn't know if Zane's referring to the kiss or the taste or the voyeuristic pleasure of watching Mohinder indulge but he thinks that Zane might simply mean everything because that is how Mohinder feels: this, now, here together, feels better than Mohinder thinks that he has any right to.

He drags his fingertips through the come still striping Zane's abdomen, collecting what he can. He brings his sticky fingers to Zane's mouth and hesitates. "Is this ok?" he asks quietly. Zane raises an eyebrow in reply, tilting his chin up as he licks his lips again, deliberately this time, urging Mohinder on.

With shaking fingers, Mohinder spreads the come along Zane's lips, exhaling a long, desperate sigh when he feels Zane move his head from side to side, rubbing his mouth more firmly against the stickiness. He keeps his lips soft and malleable, and they move with motion of Mohinder's fingers. Mohinder leans forward. He's braced on one forearm, his face hovering over Zane's to closely watch the movement of his hand and he can feel Zane's heavy breathing against his cheek. He shifts a little, pressing in closer still and he can feel Zane's cock hardening against his inner thigh.

When Zane's lips are smeared an opalescent white, Mohinder pulls back to admire his work. He wipes his fingers along Zane's chin, moaning as the remaining spunk clings to Zane's stubble. He strokes Zane's cheek with the back of his hand, as he absently licks his own skin clean.

"You look so good, Zane," he whispers, voice barely audible. The roll of Zane's hips beneath him and the languorous smile on his face lets Mohinder know that Zane has heard him nonetheless.

He brushes the hair back from Zane's forehead, restlessly running his fingers through it as he traces the lines of Zane's cheekbones and jaw. All the while, his eyes are trained on Zane's plump, full mouth, stained so beautifully. He tilts Zane's head to the side. The light glimmers off the wetness on his lips and it's more than Mohinder can bear. He dips down and takes Zane's bottom lip between his teeth, gripping it gently as he sucks the semen from Zane's skin.

Zane's hands come up to frame his face. He holds Mohinder steady and close, moaning encouragement as Mohinder scrapes his teeth along his lips, licks and nibbles at him. He's groping Mohinder everywhere. He palms Mohinder's cock and strokes his chest. He kneads the muscles of his arms, his ass and his thighs, and he runs his fingers up and down the length of Mohinder's spine.

As Mohinder's lips are on Zane's lips it becomes a sticky, hungry kiss. Mohinder tilts his head and attacks the remaining flecks of semen on Zane's chin. Zane's stubble is rough on his tongue but the scratch of it only makes Mohinder moan. He licks more insistently, lapping at Zane's skin long after the last of the come has been cleaned away and long after Zane's skin has begun to redden under the attention.

Zane is grunting and groaning. One hand is fisting roughly in Mohinder's hair and the other wraps around his dick. He tugs at Mohinder's erection with long, smooth strokes. The slow, steady pace of his hand is at complete odds with the frenetic writhing of their torsos and Mohinder finds the contrast deliciously arousing.

"_Zane_," Mohinder whimpers. "Oh god, Zane. I need you."

"Yes," Zane hisses. They're kissing frantically, words gasped, as their mouths and hands skim, uncoordinated with desire, over one another's bodies.

Zane presses the condom against his palm. The wrapper is slick from the sweat of Zane's hand and the feel of the circular outline beneath the foil is enough to refocus Mohinder's movements. He sits back on Zane's thighs and Zane sits too, leaning back against the headboard as they catch their breath. Zane is fully hard again and Mohinder caresses his dick affectionately, moaning in pleasure to feel him warm and heavy against his palm once more. Zane catches his wrist and stills him.

"Don't," Zane says, with a laugh that becomes a moan. "It's too much..."

Mohinder offers Zane the condom. "Put it on me?"

Zane shakes his head, smiling as he pushes Mohinder's hand away. "No, I want to watch you."

Mohinder inhales a deep, shuddery breath. Zane strokes his thighs soothingly and he watches Mohinder with rapt attention as Mohinder brings the condom to his mouth. He rips the foil carefully with his teeth, throwing his head back to put on a show when he feels Zane's hands clench on his legs.

Zane is biting his lip and Mohinder thinks that he might be holding his breath as Mohinder fondles his own chest, tweaking his nipples and skating his hand down lower. He grasps his cock firmly, jerking it quickly until they're both panting before rolling on the condom. He smoothes his hand down his length, feeling the heat of his dick through the thin latex sheath.

Mohinder gropes at his side for the second packet of lube but Zane snatches it from beneath his hands. It is Mohinder's turn to watch as Zane squirts the liquid into his hands and rubs his palms together quickly. He slicks Mohinder's cock with both hands, one wrapping around the tip as the other reaches his base. He's being stroked continuously, completely encased in the slippery warmth of Zane's fists. It doesn't take long before he is bucking up, helpless to control himself as heat builds in waves between his legs and makes his chest grow tight.

Zane must notice because his hands fall away. He wipes his palms on the sheets but when he cups Mohinder's face to pull him down into a kiss, Mohinder can still feel traces of the slickness on him.

"_Mohinder_, please"

Mohinder nods, kissing him a final time before rising up on his knees. "Roll over," he says gently as he guides Zane onto his stomach. He pulls Zane by the hips, sliding him further down the bed and spreads his legs. Zane is watching him over his shoulder as Mohinder pushes his knee up to his side.

He presses two wet fingers into Zane's asshole, kissing the back of his neck as he stretches him quickly. He rubs the tip of his cock along Zane's crease and behind his balls, teasing his entrance until Zane is groaning into the pillows.

"Ready?" he asks. His lips are damp against Zane's ear and Zane reaches backwards, tangling his hand in Mohinder's curls as he hisses, "Yes."

Mohinder enters him in a single stroke. He moves slowly, feeling Zane's body relax around him as he presses in steadily. When his hips are flush to Zane's ass, his face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, he feels Zane's grip lessen at the nape of his neck and he hears Zane whispering his name.

He rolls his hips, grinding them closer together and moving inside Zane just enough to tease. He peppers kisses on Zane's shoulders and neck, mouthing along his jaw line and kissing him sloppily when Zane turns back to meet his lips. When Zane starts to rock back against him, Mohinder starts to thrust.

He keeps the rhythm tender, pulling out almost completely before gliding back in. It's torturously slow, but breathtaking in its intensity. With every stroke, he can feel Zane being stretched anew. His arms and thighs are trembling and it takes all of Mohinder's self-control not to give in to his lust, not to pound into Zane's unresisting body hard and fast. He tilts his hips with every thrust, searching out the perfect angle until he hears Zane gasp.

"There?" he asks. He is breathless, triumphant with the noises spilling from Zane's lips: high-pitched moans and broken whimpers.

"Oh fuck, Mohinder. Right there!"

Mohinder builds the pace gradually. He pushes in harder and pulls out quicker, keeping that same angle that lets his cock rub over Zane's prostate with every stroke. Zane's gasps are getting louder, coming quicker, until he barely seems to be breathing at all, too caught up in his pleasure. He reaches back and grabs Mohinder's hip, urging him on with his touch.

Zane is pressing back against him, meeting his thrusts as best he can but he hasn't much leverage in this position. When he cries out, "_Harder!_", Mohinder pulls out entirely and helps him rise up to his hands and knees.

Mohinder plunges back in with barely a pause. There's no time for slow and tender now. He can feel his orgasm cresting, toes curling in the sheets as he uses his grip on Zane's hips to augment his thrusts. Zane is taking full advantage of the new position, pushing back roughly and setting a faster pace than Mohinder can cope with.

"Zane… Zane, wait, I'm close," he pants.

"Yes," Zane moans. "Me too."

Zane reaches down to grasp his cock but Mohinder's hand gets there first. He jacks Zane quickly. Mohinder wants to make Zane come first, to have the intoxicating flutter of Zane's climax around him be what pushes him over the edge, but he's too far gone. Without warning, he peaks, slamming himself brutally into Zane as hours of pent up tension and desire break over him in a shattering orgasm.

Zane strokes his thigh as he comes. He's fallen forward, curled over Zane's body with his forehead resting on Zane's shoulder. He can feel Zane craning his neck backwards and he lifts his face enough to let Zane kiss him.

His breathing slows and Zane's dick is still in his hand. Mohinder jerks him off with practised strokes as his cock begins to soften within him. Zane comes before Mohinder slides free of his body. Aftershocks shoot through him when Zane's muscles contract spasmodically around him. "_Mohinder_," Zane whispers when he can finally speak again.

Zane collapses to the bed panting. It takes all of Mohinder's strength to toss the condom in the direction of the trashcan before falling to the bed himself. He strokes Zane's chest lazily as they exchange breathless kisses.

"That was amazing,"

"You're amazing, Zane."

Mohinder leans in to kiss Zane once more, but Zane turns away and pulls the sheets around himself. He's blushing a little, not meeting Mohinder's eyes and Mohinder isn't sure why he is suddenly shy. Zane has wrapped his arms around himself and he draws his knees up to his chest protectively.

"Ok?" Mohinder asks. He brushes his hands through Zane's hair, wrapping his arms around him when Zane unexpectedly turns and clings to him. "Zane? Zane, _shhh_, it's ok."

Mohinder rolls onto his back and Zane curls up around him. His face is buried in Mohinder's neck and Mohinder strokes his arms and back with slow, calming motions. Zane isn't crying, but his breathing is laboured and he seems suddenly utterly overwhelmed by what they have done.

"I'm sorry," he whispers when his breathing evens out once more.

"Don't be," Mohinder assures him. "Can you look at me?"

Zane lifts himself until he is sharing Mohinder's pillow and Mohinder turns to him, their noses touching as they lie face to face.

"That was intense," Zane says. He's laughing a little to cover his embarrassment.

"Yeah, it was," Mohinder agrees. After a pause, he adds, carefully, "Did you not want that?"

"I don't know, I…" Zane trails off helplessly. He looks younger and more confused than Mohinder is used to seeing him. It strikes Mohinder all at once how out of his depth Zane must feel, in this cold, alien state with a man he barely knows and an ability that he has only just gotten used to possessing. His stomach drops with guilt at the thought that he has somehow taken advantage of their situation. Zane's earlier confidence seems like false bravado now that their lust has been stripped away and Mohinder curses himself for not recognising Zane's power games for what they were: a desperate need to feel in control.

He cups Zane's jaw and holds his gaze as he speaks. "This can be whatever you want it to be, Zane. No pressure."

"And if I want more?" he asks softly. "If I want this to be special?"

Mohinder smiles and kisses him. "I want that too."


End file.
